


How Terribly Strange To Be Seventeen...

by yvette_cigarette



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Young Love, homophobia be gone, i may be out of line posting this, jesus Christ so fluffy, the world isn’t homophobic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 20:16:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvette_cigarette/pseuds/yvette_cigarette
Summary: Lovely and equally unlovely love letters.
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	How Terribly Strange To Be Seventeen...

**Author's Note:**

> so after all of that angst with Young Lust...I thought hey, lighten up jeez. 
> 
> so these are fluffy love letters I decided teenage Miles and Alex exchanged, joking, lusting, complaining...I don’t know a great deal (near nothing) about their personal lives/teen years...so please excuse any slip ups! 
> 
> kudos are appreciated :))

Dear Miles,

Look at us. Exchanging handwritten letters...our ancestors would be so proud. 

I’m content not to pour my heart out onto this piece of text-book paper, but I’m so good at breaking promises to myself. 

I wish to god we went to the same school. I love my friends but I love you most. Matt’s been teasing me about us...he thinks we’ve done it. 

I know this is painfully brief, but I’m afraid to enclose the entirety of my thoughts...when you’re in all of them. I’m sure you’d get tired of hearing about this obsession. Just know that I never will. 

Love, 

Your Alex.

* * *

Alex my love,

My heart grew twice it’s beating size when I found your beautiful letter in my unworthy mailbox. 

I wish with all of my powerless power that we schooled together. Though I doubt we’d spend much time in the classrooms… 

Please don’t imagine I would write off your precision with words as hesitance. I cherish and admire every syllable you send me, both in cursive and through those lips of yours. 

Ma’s always asking about you, I tell her it gets old...when really I jump at any chance to tell anyone about you. You’re my treasure, Alex. I’ll never share anything more than the knowledge about you. 

I don’t even mind how sappy you make me. Oh but curse you, gorgeous boy! I’m a sap. 

I’ll be happy with a letter simply containing my name, in that beautiful penmanship of yours. 

Just my name is plenty.

Love, 

Miles the sap.

* * *

Miles the sap,

I will do as you ask, but only because your name makes me shudder - and writing it is as good as having your hands on me. Bugger, now I’m thinking about those hands of yours...and those fingers. 

Miles. Miles. Miles.

Three is enough, we have to leave _ something _ for the hypothetical honeymoon. 

As for your sap-iness, sap-niness is a warm gun...get it? Even in letter-form, and with the benefit of the postal service, my jokes are fucking rubbish. 

How are you? Not outside but inside. How’s your brain? And your heart and your liver and your lungs? 

Short lived as ever,

Alex.

* * *

Alex darling,

My hands? Is that a new fetish of yours I’m only now just hearing about? If so, you may do with them as you please. I don’t own them when I’m with you, they have minds of their own!

Our honeymoon...I don’t know why that felt so good to think about. I wont read too much into it, I promise. I haven’t forgotten your views on that contract. 

But, on our hypothetical honeymoon, we’re in venice.

Venice...with the navy sky and freckled stars. I just realised how bad I miss you. I always miss you, but the bustle of life screams that longing out.

My brain... is a fucking junkyard, I don’t know why I don’t drop out when all I need is my guitar, my notebook and you. The perfect compound for success.

My heart. It keeps doing this thing when I sleep, like it knows you should be in my arms and it’s just really pissed off that you aren’t. 

My liver, has been better - no thanks to the whiskey I can’t stop nicking from da’s stash. 

Similar story with my lungs...I should quit these cigarettes, makes me wonder how closely I hold living as I gamble my odds away with each puff. 

Fuck it, it’s worth it. 

Tell me what you’re reading, I know you’re reading at least three books right now. 

Miles. 

* * *

Miles!

I’m sorry I didn’t reply sooner. We’re meeting this Friday. It’s on my pathetically empty calendar. Doesn’t matter, you’re the most historical event I need on my schedule. 

Oi, no. You are liable those nonchalant hands of yours! ...minds of their own, huh? Tell me, what are they thinking now? Or, what were they thinking Friday? Fancy that, you’ll get this letter after our rendezvous. 

I hope you will have held my hand. I know how daft it sounds, but your hands are my go to when we touch. They’re magnetized to mine I reckon. 

Your body sounds polluted, overworked and lonely… I can’t wait to feel it close to me again.

Oh and apologies retroactively for the awkward manner I will have expressed. It’s just nerves. You excite too many atoms inside me at once. It’s cruel, really. Bastard.

Guilty; I’m reading a few things. My fucking english lit teacher is making me write an essay on a book he knows I’ve read fifty bloody times - thanks a bunch for bettering my future, wanker. 

I am reading 1984, which has me checking every surface for surveillance cameras. Also, a book someone decided to label a romance. I could write postcard better than that shite. You know I could.

Anyways, ma’s calling me to build a fire, let's hope it sets me alight and gets me out of school.

I love you, but mostly your hands.

Alex. 

* * *

Al,

You were anything but awkward. You looked me in the eye... and I think we both know who was at who’s mercy. 

I hope you liked those stupid jokes I cracked as we sat in that booth, sipping from the same milkshake. I’ve never loved strawberry so much in my life. 

You looked incredible, I can’t believe I got to look at you all night. 

My hand’s thoughts...they were... lusting radio silence. They behaved, but only because I begged them to. Just know that they wanted to be on you as bad as I did.

Where did those eyes come from Alex? Please look at me like that always - actually no, don’t. I would never be able to breath...or stand up. 

I had a blast listening to bag your English teacher, or as you’ve tokened him; shit for brains. You’re too good for that class. You’re too good for any class. 

We need to do that again. But somewhere less everyone else and more you and me. Because when I kissed you...fuck, it’s a mircale we didn’t end up giving those old timers something to stare at. 

Tell me about this romance you’re going to shove in that authors face. Will you dedicate a character to your first love? You owe me at least that when I scream by affections into these letters. 

What are you listening to? 

Miles,

away from the man I love. 

* * *

You fucking man,

I can’t stop thinking about you, what have you done to me? 

Thank you for kissing me. I know that’s not something you should thank someone for...but blimey. You made that milkshake taste like sewer water. I can’t decide if that’s romantic...it’s meant to be.

Yes, my romance novel...someone has to show these amatures how it’s done. I’ll name a restaurant in my tale after you, because you’re so above a romance novel. 

Though, with how my mind has been racing with thoughts of you lately...I wouldn’t be surprised if it just merged into proper erotica. 

No need to linger on that last part. 

I’m listening to a bit of everything...none compare to you. 

Matt says he’s got us a gig...I don’t know where this thing with the lads is going but I’m having fun...me a rockstar, we could be famous coke-heads together, Miles.

Tell me what you’re wearing.

Alex.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> this was just a fun fluff-ball that I can’t be mad about forcing on you hehe...
> 
> title is Simon and Garf bc ugh 💔


End file.
